


First Aid and a Little Bit of a Better Way to Do It

by American_Oddysey



Category: Madness Combat (Web Series), Madness: Project Nexus (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, its the beginning of hank not actually completely treating christoff like shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:00:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27027730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/American_Oddysey/pseuds/American_Oddysey
Summary: Just after Hank's last encounter with the Sheriff and a little after having Christoff join him.
Relationships: Dr. Christoff/Hank J. Wimbleton, Hank J. Wimbleton/Jebediah Christoff
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	First Aid and a Little Bit of a Better Way to Do It

“Don’t get the wrong idea,” Hank grumbled as he took off his coat.

Jeb raised his eyebrows when he saw that the mercenary was not wearing anything underneath it. He sighed and figured that he shouldn’t really be surprised. What did surprise him, though, was just how emaciated Hank looked. He knew the mercenary was skinny, though he figured that he’d just had an athletic build.

Hank had caught the doctor staring, drawing his eyebrows together. “ _ What? _ ”

“Nothing, just sit down,” Christoff said quickly, probably too quickly. This hadn’t been the first time that he’d questioned someone’s well-being, and really, it wasn’t his place to ask about it. Especially considering how strained his relationship with Hank actually was.

“Better be nothing,” Hank said under his breath as he followed the doctor’s orders, back turned towards the taller man.

“He really just gave you the bare minimum, huh?” Jeb crouched down, tearing the medical tape from Hank’s torso. “How old are these?” He pulls the gauze away from Hank’s bullet wound, the layers stuck together, both dried and fresh blood coagulated between the layers of fabric. Hank probably should have taken it easy with this, and  _ God _ it did not look like a bullet wound.

“Couple days…” Hank murmured, chin in his palm as he rested his elbow on his knee. He really didn’t care. It hurt like a motherfucker, but it wasn’t like Hank was gonna do anything about it. It was Christoff’s idea to look at the thing, anyways.

“What did you  _ do? _ ” Christoff said, unable to hide the shock in his voice. His ability to hold that back was because he was busy trying not to feel guilty about all the scars decorating the mercenary’s body. Most of them were from him, the others, Hofnarr. 

“Told you already, it’s a bullet,” Hank huffed, drawing his lips into a line. “... Sheriff tried to dig it out with tweezers.” He lied.

It wasn’t like Christoff believed him, anyways. “... Right.” And he wasn’t about to mask his tone for Hank.

“I didn’t wanna get lead poisoning!” Hank retorted defensively, pulling away from the doctor as he tried to argue his stance.

“Hank. I don’t think I can say this to you in a less insulting way. You literally could not get the negative effects of lead poisoning besides death. You’re stupid enough as it is.” Christoff said bluntly. “You could not get any dumber.”

Hank was still wearing his mask and goggles, but Christoff could still feel the shorter man glaring daggers at him. 

“Suck it up and get back over here,” Christoff sighed. “I can get the bullet out if it’s really bothering you.” He offered, holding his hand out like it’d get Hank to agree to sit back in close proximity to him.

Hank stared at the doctor, then let out a huff, scooting back towards him, chin returning to his palm. “I expect you to, with your stupid god powers.” Not really, Hank never put two and two together, not like he was going to admit that in front of Christoff. 

Christoff rolled his eyes behind his shades, and figured he didn't need them in the dark of the storage unit the two of them were using as a temporary camp. He set them aside, then looked around for the satchel the mercenary had been carrying around for the entire mission. He hoped that Hank didn’t just throw out the first aid equipment so he’d have more room for ammo. “This should have had stitches,” Jeb remarked as he shuffled through the bag.

“Sheriff said that, too,” Hank said, not like he was even considering getting stitches. “Though I wouldn’t think either of you two have the medical expertise for that sort of shit.” Hank continued, completely ignoring that Jeb was, in fact, a doctor.

“Stitches aren’t particularly hard to do, it’s the equipment we’re missing,” Christoff mumbled, hovering his hand over the wound, a dim red glow surrounding it as he tried to locate the bullet. “Sterilized needles are a commodity. A commodity that we don’t have access to.”

Hank grunted, then let out an actual yelp as the doctor literally yanked the bullet out of the wound.

Jeb looked almost surprised, then cracked a little bit of a smile. “I can’t believe that noise came from  _ you _ , of all people.”

“You didn’t fucking warn me, asshole!” Hank hissed, turning around, and looked like he was about to slug Jeb. Christoff held Hank’s shoulders firmly and put him back into the position he was in before. Hank barely fought back.

“Let me re-dress the wound, and then you can beat me up as much as you’d like, Mr. Wimbleton,” Jeb hummed, the smile still not leaving his lips. The medkit in the bag was lacking, but it at least had gauze and medical tape in there. Not antiseptic, though. “I think that it actually had healed over the bullet, that would probably explain why it hurt so much.”

“It  _ didn’t,  _ though, you just caught me off-guard!” Hank looked over his shoulder at the doctor. “I meant it didn’t hurt, not that it didn’t-”

“I know,” Christoff interrupted Hank, pressing the gauze pads to the wound and wrapping the medical tape around his torso, like before. “I advise that we stay here for at least a few days. I’m surprised the wound hasn’t gotten infected already, with how you are, and how long it’s been since those were last applied.”

“We have a mission, Christoff. I’m not gonna just sit here ‘n wait for this stupid thing to heal.”

“We have plenty of time,” Christoff eased, ripping the tape from the roll. “If we had more supplies, then maybe it’d be a different story, but we don’t, so you’re going to have to be patient. Unless you want to be dead weight to us when we all get to the Science Tower.”

Hank scowled and crossed his arms.

“We at least should stay here for the night, is that alright with you?”

“You’re gonna make me stay here whether or not I answer.”

“You’re very correct.” Christoff hummed. Hank acted like a child sometimes. He guessed it was specifically the stubbornness that equated him to that. “There’s no food or anything in that bag, is there?”

“No. Not like I’d eat it if there was any.” Hank muttered.

Christoff paused, but opted not to say anything to Hank about that subject. “... Then do you mind trying to start a fire while I go and look for something?” The older man stood up with a little grunt. It’d keep Hank busy, at least. He knew the guy wouldn’t be able to start a fire without him, anyways. Even if they  _ had _ matches.

“Yeah.” Hank tried to push himself up, but clearly staggers, almost losing his balance.

“I-I’ll get the kindling, Hank, just sit there for the time being.” Jeb said, putting his hands on the mercenary’s shoulders again, pushing him back down. “I feel like you’re just going to hurt yourself.”

“ _ You’re _ just gonna hurt yourself.” Hank squinted at the doctor, but doesn’t offer much more of an argument, crossing his arms and leaning back against one of the metal crates.

“It’s not like you’d care if I did, I’m sure you’d love the isolation.” Christoff bent down and picked up the Binary Sword, loosening and tightening his grip on it as he stood back up straight. “Am I wrong?”

Hank doesn’t answer, reaching up and pulling his facemask off from around his ears.

“Right,” Jeb shook his head and went around the room, breaking the wooden crates into splinters and gathering them up in front of Hank.

“Keep an eye out for matches. When you leave, I mean.” Hank spoke up.

“Will do,” Christoff levitated the last batch of kindling over to Hank, then sheathed the Binary Sword as he started towards the exit.

“Don’t-” Hank spoke up once more, which had Christoff stop in his tracks. “Don’t actually get yourself hurt. That’d be stupid.”

Christoff blinked. Not exactly what he was expecting. And he felt like that latter part wasn’t exactly what the mercenary wanted to say, but felt like any digging into Hank’s motives would just cause him to come up with nothing.

“You’re, uh-” Hank frowns, at least it was easier to see what the mercenary was thinking, now. “Important. To us. For the mission, you know. It’d be stupid to get yourself hurt just because you think I’d prefer that.”

“... I see.”

“Sanford would have my ass mounted above his fireplace if he found out that you joined us then promptly got yourself killed.”

“I’m not that much of a people-pleaser, Hank. Even if you  _ did _ want me dead, which I’m sure you don’t, judging from what you just said-” With Hank’s expression towards that statement, Christoff knew for a fact he was right. “- I wouldn’t just go and get myself killed. I wouldn’t even let you kill me.”

“Just fucking go already.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Hank.” Christoff offered Hank a smile, lifting the door to the storage unit and stepping out. “At least I know that you’re not a  _ complete _ psychopath.”


End file.
